


Tension

by scarletmanuka



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Back Pain, Fluff and Smut, Getting Together, John is a man of many talents, M/M, Massage, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:28:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24715324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletmanuka/pseuds/scarletmanuka
Summary: Rodney suffers from a bad back and John reveals that he's done a massage course and offers to help.
Relationships: Rodney McKay/John Sheppard
Comments: 13
Kudos: 133





	Tension

“I wouldn’t mind getting Doctor McKay’s thoughts on these,” Lorne said and gestured at the mission plans that they were preparing together.

John nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I was thinking. Rodney’ll be able to tell us which teams will need an extra science contingent and which ones will just need a regular team.” He touched his ear piece and said, “McKay, come in.”

Silence.

John frowned. “Rodney, you copy?” 

When there was no reply, he switched from the team channel to the open channel. “Doctor McKay, come in.”

Nothing. John looked at Lorne and saw his concern mirrored on his XO’s face. 

A split second later the radio crackled to life but it wasn’t Rodney’s voice, but Beckett’s. _“Apologies, Colonel, but Rodney’s in the infirmary at present and is unable to respond.”_

John was already moving before Beckett was finished, his chest tightening in fear. He knew, intellectually at least, that if it was something major then he would have been informed immediately. The most likely scenario was that Rodney had gotten a minor injury and was playing it up for all it was worth. _But you didn't hear him in the background_ a traitorous voice in his head whispered and John had to concede the point. Rodney was loud, whiny, and made sure the entire base knew about it whenever he got as much as a papercut, small bruise, or suffered a near miss. It was when he was silent that John knew that it was _really_ bad. Watching Rodney struggle to breathe during an anaphylactic reaction, slump silently forward with a head wound, or sneak off to offer his life in exchange for his sister’s was when John knew that it was bad. A silent Rodney was never what he seriously wanted.

He picked up his pace as he hurried through the halls, ignoring the churn in his gut and the _no, no, no, I can’t lose him_ chant that his mind had taken up. He might be a best friend to Rodney but to John, Rodney was his _everything._ He was emotionally constipated and working under the restriction of Don’t Ask, Don't Tell so he'd never actually _shared_ that with the scientist, but it didn't make it any less true. 

John burst through the door to the infirmary and was demanding, “What’s happened?” before anyone could even look up.

Beckett was putting the finishing touches on the cast of Lance Corporal Rodriguez, one of the marines who had fallen badly during training with Ronon, Rodney nowhere in sight. “Colonel, I thought you’d be gracing us with your presence at some stage,” Beckett said, his lips twitching.

If the doc was able to tease, then it really couldn’t be that bad but John would feel better if he could actually _see_ Rodney. “Where is he?” he said, trying not to bark it out like an order.

Beckett tilted his head to one of the private examination rooms. “In with Doctor Biro presently.”

“Why? What happened?”

Beckett huffed and ignored John for a moment as he let Rodriguez know that he could go. Once they were alone he said, “Patient confidentiality is a joke to you lot, isn’t it?”

“If he was getting a prostate exam, it would be during a scheduled appointment,” John said from between clenched teeth. “This was _not_ scheduled which tells me that one of my team members is injured!”

“As the matter is not life or death, I still don’t see how this is any of your concern until Rodney tells you himself,” Beckett countered.

John opened his mouth to retort when he was cut off by a cry of pain that could only belong to Rodney. He was across the room in a handful of steps and barged through the door, ignoring Beckett’s protests. He froze as he took in Rodney, shirtless, lying on his stomach on the examination bed while Biro placed her hands to either side of his spine and pushed down forcefully, the loud _crack_ of his spine being adjusted ringing out around the room.

“Jesus fucking Christ, are you trying to remove my vertebrae for your voodoo practices?” Rodney snapped.

“You’re as stiff as a board, McKay, and in need of a massage, ” Biro told him. “It’s no wonder that you’re putting your back out. When was the last time you actually _relaxed?”_

“Relax? _Relax?_ ” Rodney demanded. “If you haven’t noticed, we’re in a galaxy where space vampires want to eat us, faux Armish thugs want to nuke us, and every second thing we come across also wants us dead for some inexplicable reason. Excuse me for not being able to _relax!”_

Biro turned away to roll her eyes and she saw John standing there. “Oh, hello, Colonel.”

“Doc,” he greeted her. “I didn’t know you were also a chiropractor.”

She shrugged. “I had some free time once so figured I’d get another qualification. It comes in handy.”

“Qualification?” Rodney shrieked, his shoulder muscles bunching up and rippling as he arched up to glare at her. John tried to not stare _too_ obviously. “You mean you rattled some bones in a cup and poured them over an ouija board and a fake medical qualification appeared?”

“I’m adjusting your neck next,” Biro told him sweetly. “Unless you want me to...slip, I’d be quiet if I were you.”

“Carson!” Rodney protested, his eyes wide.

“Can you blame her?” Beckett said. “Half the expedition wants to wring your neck, lad.”

“Yes, but not all of them could actually do it!”

“I reckon most of my guys and girls could,” John teased, just to enjoy the glare Rodney sent his way. 

“Not helpful!”

“Turn over,” Biro instructed.

Grumbling, Rodney rolled over onto his back and John tried not to let his eyes linger on his broad chest, his taut nipples, or the pale skin of his hip where his uniform pants had slipped. 

Biro slipped her hands under Rodney’s neck and then she wrenched his neck to one side with a loud _crack,_ followed closely by Rodney cursing her out. She did the other side and finally allowed him to sit up, ignoring his accusations that she enjoyed it.

“I’m serious about the massage,” she told him. “It’ll help.”

“Are you offering?” he asked.

She couldn't quite hide her grimace in time and John saw the flash of hurt on Rodney’s face before he hid it. For all his confidence and bluster, Rodney was insecure at heart and any hint that someone found him unappealing was a blow to him. “Sorry,” Biro offered, “but between my duties and projects, I simply don’t have time. If you can’t find anyone to assist you, bedrest may help. Lie flat on your back, use some heat packs as well.”

“Can I go now?” he asked, in as neutral a tone as possible. 

Biro waved him off and John walked with Rodney, noticing how he held himself stiffly, how he gasped as he made an accidental sharp move. “It’s really bad, huh?” he asked.

Rodney grunted. “If you know of anyone selling a spine on the Atlantean black market, please let me know. Mine seems to have broken.”

John went to clap him on the back, thought better of it at the last minute, and ended up rubbing his shoulder more affectionately than he should have. “I think they’re rarer than hens teeth but I’ll keep an eye out.”

“Rarer than _hens_ in Pegasus,” Rodney muttered. “I might have more luck finding someone who moonlights as a masseuse.” He eyed a group of pretty young anthropologists and John knew that he was picturing them in a tight white uniform, covering him in massage oil. Somedays McKay was so damn _straight_ that it made John despair. 

“Sure thing, buddy,” John said, and then excused himself so he wouldn't have to watch McKay size up any of the other young, curvy, _female_ expedition members.

Later that night as he sat up in bed, attempting to read, John wondered if he should have mentioned his own expertise. He wasn’t what Rodney pictured as a masseuse but he _did_ have the skills, and at the end of the day, it was about alleviating Rodney’s pain, not a sexual encounter. Well, it wouldn’t be for Rodney, but John knew that if he had Rodney laid out before him, naked and glistening with oil, using his hands to rub it into that pale expanse of flesh, there was no way that his dick wasn’t going to notice. It was perking up right now just thinking about it. 

_Not the point_ , he told himself. No, the point was that, thanks to a sports injury that Nancy had suffered in her early twenties, John had taken a massage course and could give a damn good massage when needed. Nancy had told him, multiple times, that he was better than any professional that she saw when he was deployed, so he knew that he was good at it. He would have no qualms giving Rodney a massage but he figured that _Rodney_ might take issue with it. Sure, he might agree at first, but then he’d overthink it, question what people would say if they found out, and then he’d chicken out at the last minute. 

Unless of course he didn't give Rodney time to chicken out…

John placed his book down, got under the covers and thought the lights off, and started to piece his plan together.

oOoOo

He gave it a few days and waited until it was late at night, when everyone else had retired for the evening but he knew that Rodney was still working on some simulations in the lab. John stood in the doorway and watched silently for a short while, noticing how rounded Rodney’s shoulders were, slumped over and tight. His fingers itched to touch, and finally he gave in.

“Evening,” he drawled as he stepped up behind Rodney, and before he could think better of it, he gripped Rodney’s shoulders and began to knead them.

“Sheppard? What are - oh, _oh God,_ that’s so good. Fuck, don’t ever stop.”

John grinned as Rodney turned to putty beneath his hands and he dug his thumbs in hard right into the knots behind Rodney’s shoulder blades.

 _“Ow!”_ Rodney complained, but he didn’t pull away.

“Oh, hush,” John said softly. “It hurts now, but it’ll be better in the long run.”

Rodney moaned a little and dropped his head forward, and John resisted the urge he had to duck down and press a kiss to the soft hairs at his nape. He increased the pressure and then beneath his fingertips he felt the muscle loosen and then relax and another stream of consciousness escaped Rodney. “Oh, oh, God, wow, Sheppard please, fuck.”

It sounded so much like the sounds that John imagined Rodney made when he fantasied about having Rodney in his bed that his throat went almost as tight as his pants.

“Where did you learn how to do this?” Rodney managed to ask between his frankly indecent moans of pleasure.

“I took a course,” he offered, not wanting to get into the whole ex-wife thing that no one knew about yet.

“Why am I only learning of this now?” the scientist demanded. He sighed happily as another tight muscle relaxed and said, “You have magic hands, Sheppard. I love your hands.”

John knew that Rodney was only saying such things because of the situation but it was a heady feeling nonetheless. He just wished that Rodney would let him demonstrate what _else_ he could do with his hands. And his mouth. And his cock.

He remained silent, just worked methodically over Rodney’s neck and shoulders, worried that if he spoke, he’d give away his feelings and risk ruining their friendship. Rodney fell silent as well, besides the odd moan and gasp of pleasure, oblivious to the fact that John was memorising every sound to replay in his mind later in the privacy of his quarters. 

After about half an hour, John’s fingers were beginning to tire and he smoothed his hands from Rodney’s neck down over his shoulders, again and again before allowing them to fall away. “Better?” he asked softly.

“You have no idea,” Rodney said, moving his neck from side to side and enjoying the freedom of movement he now had. “Thank you.” It was honest and heartfelt and so rare that it took John by surprise.

“You’re welcome,” he managed to say. “I’m glad it helped.” He looked over at the clock. “It’s getting late. Why don’t you call it a night? If you work anymore tonight you might undo all my work.”

Rodney nodded and turned off his computer, then stood from his chair. He gasped in pain and clutched at his lower back. “Ow, fuck,” he cried. “I guess I have more issues than just my shoulders.”

John swallowed hard and then, as casually as he could manage, offered, “I could give you a full back massage tomorrow if you need? It’ll be better for you if you can lie down and I can use oil.”

“Really? You’d do that?” Rodney sounded surprised.

“Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

Rodney waved his hand around. “Oh, I don’t know - maybe because it might threaten your very staid sense of heterosexuality to have a half naked man on your bed covered in oil.”

His jaw fell open in shock and words tumbled from his mouth before he could think better of them. “I think the naked, oily men I’ve had in my bed previously would negate that.”

The expression on Rodney’s face was similar to the one that he wore when he got the results back from an experiment that weren’t quite the ones that he was expecting. “Wait, what?”

John grimaced, aware that he’d essentially just outed himself and knowing that Rodney wouldn’t let it drop until he clarified it. “I’ve slept with men before, McKay.”

“You're gay? But what about Chaya?”

He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “I didn't say I was gay, I said I’ve slept with women _and_ men. If you want to put a label on it, I guess I’d be bisexual.”

“Oh.”

He waited a long moment for Rodney to continue but when he didn’t he asked, "Is that a problem?”

“What? Oh, no, just -” Rodney waved his hand around his head, “slotting that information in with the precious little other data I have on you.”

He raised a brow. “You make it sound like I’m one of your experiments.”

Rodney snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m a scientist, it’s my nature to catalogue information. I don’t criticise the way _you_ do it.”

“You don't _know_ how I catalogue information!”

“But if I did, I wouldn’t criticise it,” he shot back.

“Yes you would! You’d delight in telling me how I was doing it wrong!”

Rodney’s head tilted to one side as he conceded this point. “Okay, well, yes, you’re right, but only because my way is better.”

John laughed. “Never change, buddy. Never change.”

Rodney seemed pleased by this and he collected his laptop and they started for the door. “So, does your offer still stand?” he asked, almost shyly.

“Of course,” John said. “Just tell me what time suits you and I’ll have everything ready.”

They were joined in one of the transporters by a marine so they didn’t speak again until they were stepping into the deserted corridor outside of Rodney’s quarters. “Would eight tomorrow night work?” Rodney asked.

“Sounds good, I’ll see you then.” John watched as Rodney let himself into his room and then made his way down to his own quarters, wondering what the fuck he'd gotten himself into.

oOoOo

It only dawned on him in the morning that he didn’t actually _have_ any massage oil and he doubted that Rodney would be overly impressed if he used lube or lotion. It wasn’t like he could just pop down to a drug store and pick any up so he spent the morning putting out casual feelers and hit the jackpot after lunch. One of his female marines had a bottle that she was more than willing to trade for a few blocks of chocolate and two paperbacks. He’d made it out like he needed it to work through a training injury inflicted upon him by Ronon but he was pretty sure she hadn't bought it. He sighed as he left, knowing that yet another rumour of his apparent Kirk-like status would begin to circulate but he figured that at least it would keep him safe from the truth getting out there so at least it served a purpose.

After that he dropped by Teyla’s rooms and asked if he could borrow some of the scented oil that she burned in her rooms. She was happy to part with the tiny bottle so long as he promised to return it when he was done so at least he didn't have to mix it in with the massage oil while she stood and watched. He did it in his rooms, adding just enough for it to smell pleasant but not enough that the concentrated oil would burn Rodney’s sensitive skin.

After that, John managed to get _some_ of his real work done, but he had an early dinner and went straight to his quarters afterwards to prepare. He showered and shaved, then dressed in sweats and an old faded black tee before he began to prepare the room. He pulled the bed away from the wall so he could move freely around it and covered it first with a blanket and then some old towels so he wouldn't ruin his bedding with the oil. He debated for some time whether or not to light some of the candles that Teyla had gifted him but eventually chose not to, not wanting to add a romantic air to the night and make Rodney uncomfortable. He settled on dimming the lights a little, and instead of playing music, he opened the balcony doors so the sound of the waves would add a soothing harmony. 

Once he was done, he paced the room, waiting nervously for Rodney to show up. He hadn't seen him all day and he wasn’t sure if that had made him more nervous or not. If he’d seen him, would Rodney have decided that it was too weird between them and have cancelled? Or would John have lost his nerve? He had to keep reminding himself that this wasn’t a date, nor was it a seduction. This was a _favour_ between friends. He had the skills to ease some of Rodney’s pain and make him more comfortable, that was all. Yes, he would finally be getting his hands on skin like he’d dreamed of for the past year, but that didn't mean anything. Rodney was straight and he was John’s best friend and he couldn't jeopardise that, he simply couldn’t.

The chime to his door sounded and his nerves wracked up a notch. The fact that Rodney had even bothered with the doorbell and not just barged in like he normally did told John that this wasn’t ‘normal’ for Rodney either. He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants and then commanded the door to open. 

“Hi,” Rodney said, not quite able to meet his eyes.

“Hey,” John greeted him, taking the opportunity to drink in the sight of Rodney in casual clothing. He was dressed much the same as John was - sweats and a tee, but there had been so few times in recent history where they’d been able to just relax and wear civvies that it felt odd seeing him out of uniform. “Come on in. Can I get you a drink?”

“Um, sure. What have you got?”

He should have offered water or tea but Rodney was almost vibrating with nerves so he said, “Beer?” instead.

Rodney nodded and John fetched two bottles, flicked the caps off and offered one over. He took a seat on the couch and a moment later, Rodney did the same, pointedly not looking at the bed and the small bottle of oil on the table next to it.

They drank in silence for a while and as much as John wanted to ignore the elephant in the room, he knew that he was going to have to make sure that Rodney was okay with this before they started. He drained the rest of his beer, fortifying himself about talking about _feelings_ and plunged in. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” he asked. “You seem nervous and I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

“Why would I be uncomfortable?” Rodney asked, immediately defensive.

John sighed and toyed with the label on the bottle. “I thought maybe what I told you yesterday might have changed things between us.”

“I told you it didn’t!”

“Yeah, well that was yesterday. A lot can change in a day.”

In answer to that, Rodney stood up and stripped his shirt off, throwing it on the couch. “If you even _think_ for a moment that you’re getting out of this, you’re wrong,” he said, marching over to the bed. “Now put your magic hands to good use.”

John laughed, put his empty bottle on the coffee table and stood up. “Bossy much?” he teased, then picked up the bottle of oil as he watched Rodney shuffle around on the bed, getting comfortable. 

“I miss proper massage tables,” Rodney muttered, turning his head to one side so his nose wouldn't get squished.

Considering the bed was quite low and John had to stoop over him, he agreed. “We make do with what we have,” he said, kneeling on the edge of the bed to take the pressure off his own back. He squeezed oil onto his hands and rubbed them together to warm the oil then he ran his hands over the expanse of Rodney’s back, spreading the oil over his skin. He then began to work his way down Rodney’s spine, moving gently at first, getting a feel for where the worst areas were. Once he’d reached his lower back, where his sweats were covering the swell of his ass, John moved back up, sliding his hands down and out from Rodney’s spine, his fingers ghosting over his ribs and shoulder blades. “Your shoulders are much looser today,” he murmured, able to actually feel individual knots today instead of one hard mass of muscle.

Rodney grunted. “Felt it too. They didn't hurt as much today.”

“Good. Let’s see what we can do tonight to make tomorrow even better.”

He began to work in earnest, using the heel of his palm and even his elbows at times to work out the more stubborn knots. It was easier in some way, having Rodney on the bed, as he would use his weight to take the pressure off his hands. In other ways it was harder, in that _he was hard,_ because Rodney’s skin was warm and smooth under his touch and he kept making breathy little noises as he relaxed. John kept his hips arched away, not wanting to accidentally graze Rodney with his erection, but it was difficult at times.

He’d finally worked Rodney’s back and shoulders as much as he could in a single session but he knew that there were other muscles that he could work that would help Rodney’s lower back pain. “Did you want to turn over so I can do your hip abductors?” he asked. “When your lower back is bad, they’ll generally be really tight.”

“Um…” Rodney hesitated, tensing beneath him. 

“Come on, McKay, I know it’ll hurt but you’ll thank me for it in the end.”

“It’s not that,” Rodney started but John grabbed his shoulder and started to roll him over, cutting off his protest.

Rodney rolled onto his back and the first thing that John noticed was the noticeable tent in the front of his sweats. The second was that Rodney was avoiding his gaze and his cheeks were tinged pink. He could say something, make a joke, tease Rodney, make it seem like no big deal. Or he could just ignore it and pretend that he hadn’t noticed (even though they were both well aware that he had). He decided on the latter, not wanting to embarrass Rodney anymore than he already was. They had spent a lot of time recently fighting for their lives and there hadn't been time for jerking off let alone relationships. It was only natural that any prolonged human contact would lead to accidental hard-ons and it didn't mean anything. As much as John would love for Rodney to suddenly be into him, he knew it wasn’t going to happen. Besides, if he kept quiet, there was a good chance that Rodney wouldn't notice _John's_ erection.

He didn't bother with the oil since he'd be massaging the abductors through the sweats, just settled himself at the side of the bed and dug his thumbs into the muscles, feeling the tense knots beneath.

“Ow!” Rodney yelped, his hips jerking instinctively away.

“See, I told you they’d be tight,” John said, digging straight back in and ignoring Rodney’s protests. The pain didn't seem to deter Rodney’s dick, which was still standing proudly to attention close to where John was working, but he kept his eyes averted from it and began to talk of inane topics, like the Athosian crops and the tava beans that they got on their last trading mission. 

He glanced up and saw that Rodney still looked mortified but little by little he started to relax the longer John went without calling attention to the _elephant trunk_ in the room. His abductors took their sweet time loosening up and fifteen minutes later, John decided that it was enough for now - anything more would be too painful.

Rodney’s erection was still at full mast.

John was slightly impressed, wondering at his stamina, but also a little curious. Rodney hadn't left, was still happy to have John’s hands on him, and had been hard the entire time. Was it just the massage or could it possibly be that he was about as straight as John was? And maybe even interested? Was satisfying that curiosity worth risking their friendship if he was wrong? Should he call it a night and allow things to go back to normal between them, passing up the opportunity to know for sure?

His curiosity won out and he trailed his fingers upwards, over the soft skin of Rodney’s stomach. “Want me to do your chest and arms as well?” he asked quietly.

Rodney swallowed, sounding loud in the quiet of the room, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Uh, sure, um, if you want.”

John squeezed more oil onto his hands and then fanned his hands out over Rodney’s chest. He did it several times, and when the pads of his fingers dragged over Rodney’s nipples, causing him to gasp audibly as they hardened into small nubs, he tried to hide his smile. He kept quiet, taking his time, just running his hands softly over Rodney’s broad chest and soft stomach. John could feel the muscles beneath contract every now and then but he didn't knead or prod, just kept up a gentle effleurage, watching as Rodney’s eyelashes fluttered closed and his breathing evened out as he relaxed. 

John traced his fingers over Rodney’s collarbones, then dragged his fingers down over his sternum before turning them over and trailing his blunt nails over his chest, scratching his nipples gently once more. When Rodney’s cock twitched at this, John returned to his nipples, circling around them, then thumbing over them. 

“John?” Rodney asked, his voice sounding broken.

“Mmm?”

“What are we doing?”

“Helping you relax,” he replied. “Is that okay?” He kept his voice low and soft as he asked, “Do you want me to stop?”

“God no,” Rodney said on an exhale, reaching out and grasping John’s fingers for a moment, their fingers tangling. “I never want you to stop.”

“Ever? Or just now?” It was the most vulnerable he’d ever allowed himself to be in front of Rodney.

Rodney’s eyes opened, pupils dark and dilated, but he caught John’s gaze and held it. “Ever,” he said. “Fuck, John, do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted you?”

“You have?”

Rodney rolled his eyes at this. “Yes, and I’m not saying it again lest your ego get even bigger than it already is.”

“I don't have a big ego,” John protested but not too hard since he was on cloud nine after Rodney’s admission.

“Is this, um, is this something that maybe _you’ve_ wanted?” Rodney asked, in a moment of his own vulnerability.

In reply, Jon reached down and cupped Rodney through his sweats. “Just since pretty much the day we met,” he said.

“Oh, _wow.”_

John smirked and then hooked his fingers under the waistband of the sweats and tugged on them. “Hup,” he ordered and Rodney obeyed, lifting his hips so John could pull them down, stripping them inside out as he removed them. He took in the sight of Rodney’s cock, flushed and red, the tip glistening with pre-come and he ducked down and swiped it off with his tongue.

“Fuck!” Rodney cried, his hips bucking.

Grabbing the oil once more, John poured some on his hand and then straddled Rodney’s thighs and sat back on them. He reached down and took the length of Rodney’s cock into his grip, squeezing tightly and jerking him hard and fast in his slick fist.

“Shit, John, fuck, I won’t last if you keep up that pace,” Rodney warned. 

Grinning, John didn't slow down. “Don’t care about that right now, just want to see you come.”

“Oh, fuck!”

Rodney’s hips started to buck of their own accord, chasing after his fist and John held him down with his free hand. They could go slow later, take their time, get to know one another, but right now, he needed to get them both off. It felt like the entire evening had been foreplay and he was hard and on edge himself.

Rodney’s eyes squeezed shut and his mouth fell open as he cried out, spurting ropes of hot come all over his stomach and chest, as well as John’s hand. As soon as he’d milked every last drop out of Rodney’s cock, John knelt up, tugged his own dick out of his pants and used Rodney’s come to ease the way as he stroked himself. It took even less time and soon he came with a shout, covering Rodney with his own load. Breathing heavily, he sat back down, pinning Rodney to the bed and then he reached out and began to rub their combined release into Rodney’s skin, massaging his chest and stomach as he did so.

Rodney’s eyes were still dark. “That’s both utterly gross but oddly hot at the same time,” he observed. 

John laughed and then climbed off of him and then the bed. He held out his hand and helped Rodney up. “Shower?”

“Sounds good,” Rodney said. He paused, looking shy and then said, “Maybe afterwards I could have a go with the oil? I know I won’t be as good as you but I’d like to return the favour.”

John grinned and pulled him close, nuzzling his face against Rodney’s hair. “I think the way you think,” he said.

oOoOo

A week later, they saw Doctor Biro in the mess and she stopped Rodney with a smile. “You’re looking better,” she commented. “Did you take my advice?”

Before Rodney could answer, John clapped him on the back and said, “Don’t worry, doc, I’ve been making sure he’s getting plenty of bed rest.”

“Excellent, keep it up, Colonel,” she said, heading off to get food and not noticing the way that Rodney was furiously blushing. 

John laughed and nudged Rodney with his hip. “Come on, the sooner we’re done with dinner, the sooner I’ll have you flat on your back again.”

“I hate you,” Rodney growled.

“No you don’t. You love me, and my magic hands.”

Rodney sighed. “Urgh, fine, yes I do. Especially your magic hands.”

John grinned and led them over to a table and if both of them scoffed their dinner faster than was usual, and left immediately after, well, Teyla and Ronon chose not to comment.


End file.
